Line
by carpfish
Summary: There is a thin line between dreams and reality.


**Title:** (Li)ne  
><strong>Author:<strong> Rayshia  
><strong>Rating:<strong> T  
><strong>Summary:<strong> There is a thin line between dreams and reality.  
><strong>Suggested Soundtrack:<strong> Soundscape to Ador - Bleach OST  
><strong>Warning(s):<strong> Semi-AU, confusion, extensive use of metaphors, riddles and symbolism, mind games  
><strong>Other:<strong> Elements borrowed from Lewis Carrol, Tim Burton and Quinrose

**Much thanks to my awesome beta Ink n' Echo. Thank you for doing such a great job and helping me look over the draft even though I kind of accidently pushed this onto you. Thank you!**

_True, I talk of dreams,_  
><em>Which are the children of an idle brain<em>  
><em>Begot of nothing but vain fantasy<em>  
><em>Which is as thin of substance as the air<em>

_- **Mercutio** (Shakespeares' Romeo and Juliet; Act I. Scene iv. Lines 96-99)_

Alice Liddell is about to get married. In a matter of months, she will be a married woman, a _wife_. No matter how many times she repeats that fact to herself in her head, it never fails to bring a smile to her graceful features. Staring at her reflection in the vanity mirror before her, she attempts to stop grinning like a giddy little schoolgirl, mentally admonishing herself for her childishness, but fails miserably. She's just simply too excited. Picking up the brush, she combs it through her hair several times, just to neaten it up, before placing a bright blue, ribboned hairband in it. Alice smiles nostalgically at the accessory, and can't help but think how similar it looks to that hairband that she always wore in the days of her youth. Back when she had been starry-eyed and rebellious, and had an imagination wilder than a pack of untamed stallions. She remembers a strange Wonderland of her dreams, of castles, amusement parks, and mansions, a world where she was surrounded by people who couldn't help but love her, eccentric little characters that she barely remembers anymore. The brunette laughs at her own folly; how foolish she used to be. Right now, she cannot imagine loving anyone but her current fiancé, soon to be husband.

Taking the hairband off and placing it on the table, she proceeds to braid her hair. She used to never tie up or braid her hair, but now, she's become rather accustomed to it. It makes her hair more manageable when she sleeps, and she does not have to spend as much time dealing with it in the morning. When she's finally done, Alice Liddell crawls as gracefully as one can crawl into bed, and falls asleep.

She doesn't sleep well that night. Her dreams are full of motion and chaos. She dreams of fish leaping out and diving back into solid ground as if it were a lake surface (the image of a boy sporting cat ears attempting to go fishing in the ground pops into her head for a moment, but then disappears as soon as it came), a gallery of paintings that miraculously come to life, the creatures depicted within magically stepping out of their frames and running free (why does that simple, tiny black newt crawling about on the wall catch her interest so? It is as if it stands for something she should recognize, but doesn't), some sort of foreign tea party in the middle of the night and a plethora of orange confectionaries and desserts placed on the table (briefly she wonders if those could possibly all be made out of carrots, before dismissing the idea as absurd. After all, who on earth would make, let alone eat, such a huge number of carrot dishes?), and a clearing in a forest with a small blue tent as well as a warm, crackling campfire to accompany it (she finds herself smiling with nostalgia at the sight, almost laughing at someone's silliness, before realizing that she's never gone camping in her entire life).

And at the end of the dream, it's a rabbit again, the same white rabbit with a waistcoat and pocket watch that she remembers from before, that leads her down with him. (wait, before? Again? This has happened to her before?) She can't tell whether she's being dragged, or if she's following him down. All she knows is that now she's...

Falling

Fallin

Falli

Fall

Fal

Fa

F

The next morning, when Alice wakes up after that dream-no, Nightmare. For some reason, she has trouble figuring out whether that was a dream or not in the first place. But five minutes later, when she comes to her senses, she realizes that she's supposed to be trying on wedding dresses today. She gets out of bed with gusto, almost falling out, and performs her morning routine quickly, fearing that she's overslept. Her fears are confirmed when she takes a look at the clock hanging on the wall of her room, which says that she's late by nearly an hour. She panics and rushes down to the parlor, where her fiancée is surely waiting for her, and surely cross at her tardiness.

As it turns out, she isn't late after all. The clock had stopped last night, and hadn't moved since then. Alice is relieved that she didn't sleep in like she thought, but she doesn't know why a chill runs down her spine when she hears her fiancée offhandedly comment that she needs to get her clock fixed. Perhaps they should call a clockmaker to repair it.

While modeling the gowns, the seamstress can't help but gush about how cute she looks in them, and somehow, she feels a sense of distant familiarity, as if she's used to this sort of scenario. But the strange thing is that ladylike, composed Lorina, while kind and supportive all the same, has never been that worked up in praises of Alice, preferring to express it in more gentle subtle ways. Edith would never even consider praising Alice for anything after their mother's funeral. So who could that voice from the shadow of a memory belong to?

Later, Alice has another Nightmare, and this time, she is in a void. A space of nothing but shifting colors, shapes and dimensions so that she can't see what's there and what isn't and what's anything at all. Somehow this ever-changing surrealistic place (can it even be called that?) fascinates her, and it's so wonderfully wondrous. (she can't help but wonder if her dreams are getting curious and curiouser) All of a sudden, in the silence, she hears a voice echoing in her mind.

((Who _are_ you?))

The voice makes her jump (why does she jump? She should be used to him doing this by no- What makes her think this? This sort of dream is certainly anything but a regular occurrence!) and she looks around, searching for the source of the noise. A veil of thick smoke shrouds a figure, but as it clears, a silhouette begins to take form.

Before her is a man with grey hair, an eye patch, and expensive, exotic-looking outfit. She recognizes this face instantly but can't connect it to a name. Sitting upon a strange mushroom shaped object, he smokes upon a long cigarette of some sort connected to a bottle of something, and puffs the smoke out, forming fading rings that rise up into whatever space lies above their heads. (Is it even the sky anymore?)

Assuming this is the person who asked the question (For who else could it be? As far as she knows, they are the only two people in this realm), she responds cordially. "Pardon me, sir, but was that question directed to me?"

((Yes, I am the person who asked the question which was directed to you. For who else could it be? As far as you know, we are the only two people in this realm.))

Her reaction is once again, one of shock, as most people would react upon having words lifted directly from their mind. She gapes and stares at this strange-looking man (do I even know you?) and struggles to form coherent thoughts, let alone words, afraid that he'll just continue (could he be?) reading her mind.

((You still haven't answered my question))

The voice in her head trills, seeming to be thoroughly amused by her confusion. This snaps her out of her thoughts and she takes a few deep breaths, still staring.

"I... I'm Alice."

The man before her sighs, and looks upon her from his mushroom-pedestal (how is it even a pedestal? It's a fungus! Nothing but a fungus!) in a condescending fashion, as if she were a toddler girl who misunderstood a most fundamental concept. (has he always been this snobby? Wait, no, he has- Who?)

Strangely enough, after taking another puff from his strange cigarette (that cannot be healthy. He's going to have to get sick some day, ruin his body, and go to the hospital. Alice gets the feeling that he's annoying enough to just so happen to hate hospitals.), he speaks. This time not inside her head, but projecting his voice like an esteemed and wise leader, and Alice doesn't know why she's suddenly impressed by this stranger's (newfound?) maturity.

"Alice, the question wasn't 'Who are _you_', but 'Who _are _you?"

"What's the difference?" She asks nearly immediately. Surely changing the emphasis of the question can't change it too much. (Stop speaking in riddles!)

((Aaw, but don't you like it? You were 'impressed by my maturity', weren't you?))

She jumps yet again before glaring at the man. "Hey," she yells, the annoyance (shouldn't she be angry or scared instead of annoyed?) in her voice startling even herself, and then, "Nightmare, stop reading my mind, you know I hate it! Don't you have some work to do?" As soon as she realizes that she's scolded a complete stranger, she's taken aback at her own boldness and slaps a hand over her mouth. The words had flown right out of her mouth immediately, as if by reflex.

The gray-haired man (Nightmare? Is that his name? And how does she know it?) just smiles, though it's not completely happy, but actually looks more melancholy and nostalgic than anything else. (And is he actually... In pain? Then why is he smiling?) "Welcome back, Alice."

He stands up, and takes two steps forward (That's when Alice realizes that he's floating and not really walking on anything, and she knows that she should be freaking out and panicking but she isn't, for some reason). He leans forward, far too close for her liking, as if he's going to whisper a secret in her ear.

(Or perhaps a kiss?)

The day is warm, sticky and moist, and Alice feels all out of place in this elegant getup, having high tea with her parents, fiancée and his parents. Her corset is constricting her breathing, and her hat is doing nothing to keep the sun from shining into her eyes. She wishes she could be somewhere cooler and more relaxed, like swimming in a large man-made lake. An image of such a thing pops into her mind: a glimmering surface of water surrounded by trees, a Ferris wheel in the distance and sharing an ice cream with Bo- Alice breaks out of her daydream, a perturbed and curious expression on her face. Where did she get such whimsical, impossible ideas from? What exactly were those strange things that she imagined? And who exactly is Boris? She notices that her fiancée is staring at her with an equally curious look on his face, and she looks down sheepishly.

"Oh, my apologies, I was lost in my thoughts for a moment, I suppose," She apologizes quickly, because she thinks she may have missed something important while lost in her reverie. "Perhaps the afternoon heat is getting to me."

Her fiancée nods, being the kind and understanding person he is, and smiles. "Yes, it is quite warm this afternoon. Perhaps it was not the best idea to have a tea party outdoors today."

Alice finds herself laughing, "Perhaps next time we should have a tea party at midnight!" The idea strikes her so quickly that she doesn't even think before blurting it out. As soon as her senses return to her, she is unable to fathom why she would think of something so absurd. Her parents and her fiancée and her parents-in-law-to-be are all looking quite confused.

"At midnight? That would be awfully late for a tea party, wouldn't it, Alice?" Her fiancée comments, utterly unruffled, before smiling again and returning to the previous conversation. (Alice is glad that he rejects the idea. It shows that he isn't as cruel, unreasonable, horrible and eccentric as that man whom she remembers looks an awful lot like Lorina's husband.)

Her fiancée places a piece of carrot cake into his mouth and eats it. Alice laughs again.

She finds herself gulping down the contents of a small vial, and is vaguely surprised at the sweet aftertaste before she realizes what she's doing and jerks the bottle from her lips. Alas, it's too late, and she's already finished the last drop. Staring in horror at the empty glass, she can only assume the worst and feels the blood drain from her cheeks. She's so distracted by her dilemma that she doesn't notice the figure coming up behind her. It's too late when she feels arms wrap around her shoulders in a firm grip. (Oh no... Could it be-?) By reflex, she starts struggling, even more so when a pair of lips kiss the crook of her neck lightly and tenderly.

"Alice..." A voice whispers into her ear, and all of a sudden, she stiffens, motions coming to an abrupt halt.

"Alice, I missed you so much."

(No, it _is _him.)

It takes all of her courage to turn her head around and look at the face that greets her. Sure enough, just as she expected (though how she knows what to expect at all in this curious dream is completely beyond her), there is a pair of white rabbit ears, a pair of gleaming red eyes and a smile far too enthusiastic to belong to a full-grown man.

"Rabbit... White... Peter White?" The name floats into her head almost naturally, as if she's recalling the name of a childhood friend or acquaintance. His grin widens tenfold and the arms squeeze around her even tighter.

"Alice! Oh, Alice! You haven't forgotten me at all! You came back! I knew you loved me after all!" He practically squeals, clearly rejoicing at the return of his lost love. Somehow these endless proclamations of love and adoration seem too familiar to her, and an exasperated expression slides onto her face, eyes rolling at his stupidity.

"Honestly, Peter!" She yells, annoyance in her voice tinged with the slightest bit of affection. "Get off me! You're going to break my bones!" This makes him jump back in fear that he actually will hurt her, which Alice secretly finds endearing. (Though clingy and annoying and perverted, he actually does care, doesn't he?)

She briefly wonders why she feels so comfortable, so natural like this, but decides not to look a gift horse in the mouth and just enjoy the experience. What a strange lucid little dream this is. Brushing off her skirt and putting her hands on her hips, she puts her hands on her hips and prepares to chide him, knowing exactly what to do next as if she were acting in a play. However, as soon as she looks up, the sight is completely unexpected and the harsh words die on her tongue.

Peter's appearance hasn't changed a bit, but his expression makes him look so much older and so much more tired, as if he'd aged decades since she had last seen him. That look in his eyes is surprising, and she feels as if she should recognize it somehow. The White Rabbit just looks so worn-out that she finds that she actually pities him. (But she doesn't know how she can recognize a complete stranger.)

"You're just the way I remember you," He whispers, voice barely louder than a breath.

It's then that she remembers where she's seen that expression, those eyes.

(They look just like... Nightmare?)

A shudder, a blink, cold sweat on her forehead. "Madam, you had a nightmare, are you alright?" One of the maids asks, concern painted across her face (wait, why does she have a face? Shouldn't those eyes be missing?). Alice pants, gasps, and registers her surroundings. She's awake, in her house, in her room, in her bed, sitting up after waking from a bad dream. Breathing heavily, Alice tries to recollect her wits, and relaxes the shoulders she didn't realize were tensed. (Is she really that scared by just... A Nightmare?)

"I'm alright," She says shakily, brushing a few strands of hair behind her ear. (She's not used to being alone in bed... Usually there's Peter, or a knight, a cat, or two children in there with her...)

The scene changes. "You must have been really scared by that Nightmare, weren't you?" Gray asks, expression flitting across the line between concern and relief (reality and illusion). He's sitting on a chair next to her bed, just like last time, when the Joker had invaded her dreams.

"I'm alright," she replies levelly. She was scared, but now that Gray's with her, she'll be alright. She smiles at the memory of how she used to look up at him, admire how he was so much more mature than she was. But she's grown as well, so now they're somewhat on par, aren't they? It's funny how things change. Alice is acutely aware of his presence, his warmth next to her, and a small part of her, the little girl within her who still looks up to the adult that is Gray, just wants to reach out her arms and embrace him for comfort. However, her subconscious screams in protest, reminding her that she shouldn't be thinking such thoughts, feeling such things, because she's not a child anymore- no, she's a woman now, and she's engaged in fact.

All of a sudden, like a flash of lightning in the darkness of a storm, her fiancée smiles at her with all the enthusiasm and excitement of a young boy, looking like a child on Christmas Eve, yearning for the next day to come so the secrets under the tree can finally be brought out. (Is he that excited? What if he doesn't like his gifts?) "Tomorrow, we're going to be wedded tomorrow. I can't wait!" (His smile is warm and familiar and safe, and she knows that he'll provide for her and protect her and love her, but she just feels-)

He takes her hand with two of his, and lifts it up, lips softly caressing the back of her palm. "Until tomorrow, my lady-to-be. Sweet dreams."

He turns to leave the room and allow her to sleep and rest before the Big Day tomorrow, the day that will change both their lives forever. However, just as he reaches the threshold, (between her room and the outside world) he turns. (The smile is on his face as always. She wonders if she's ever seen him not smiling. It's like his smile will always be there even when he isn't. How strange. She's seen a person without a smile but not a smile without a person.)

And her fiancée turns around, running a hand through his blonde hair, and smiles sheepishly before saying,

"I love you, Alice,"

The dark-haired gatekeeper murmurs softly as he wraps his arms around her shoulders in a hug, gentle yet strong. Though he's only a young boy, his embrace is warm, it makes her feel secure. It's all so strange and sudden, but she knows where she is, and who she is, and she knows that when she's here, no-one can hurt her. Somehow, she isn't confused anymore. However, something feels missing, something feels off, and in a moment, she realizes what it is.

"Where's your brother?"

In her mind, the two of them always walk hand in hand, never separated, never apart. The two of them are not the same thing, certainly not, but they're not two different things either. There's thin line that differentiates them, but she's never been really capable of seeing it. They are one and yet they aren't. It's a contradicting, symbiotic, contrasting affair. It's something that has always confused her.

The twin shrugs and closes his bright-colored eyes again, hugging her even closer. She can feel his breath on her ear, hovering so close to her. He whispers softly, as innocent as she knows that he is and isn't at the same time.

He whispers, "You're going to have to choose one over the other in the end," Lorina admonishes with a stern look (even though you don't mean it, you don't mean a thing, do you?), and holds the comb up in one hand and the hairband in the other. "Will you do your hair up or keep it down? Which do you think would look better with the wedding dress?" Vivaldi coos while running the brush through Alice's hair, taking care to get rid of any knots. "Oh, you'd look so cute in either one! You look adorable in that dress as well! You're going to look amazing!"

She's walking down the aisle, with flowers (they're beautiful, but they're not going to last forever, aren't they? But it's okay, because it only matters that they're beautiful today, just like her and everything else) all around her, the veil covering her face, and her white dress and she's heading down to meet with her fiancée (he's smiling again, more than ever). She feels a pressure on her chest (it's nerves, anxiety, anticipation) and looks down to see Ace's head resting on her chest, expression as peaceful as a baby's, and he's lying on top of her. "Don't you ever want to escape this role?" he asks with an uncharacteristic softness, listening enraptured by the beating of her pulse. "You're different from us. You can escape if you want to." (Up is down, left is right, she's sideways and upways and downways all the same time) She takes more steps (forward, always forward, because there's no going back anymore, not now), and notices that music is playing (has there been this much noise this whole time?)

"Run away!" Someone screams and she almost flees to prevent an assault on her auditory senses in the twisted form of the Canon in D. But the twisted violin music is all so quiet compared to the sound of her flats tapping on the cobblestone ground, which is also the sound of high heels on a luscious red carpet. She's almost there, near the smile and the light and the end of the aisle, and she notices the people (it's not just her fiancée smiling now; it's everyone, everyone around her). She opens her mouth, turns to her fiancée and whispers, (with an uncharacteristic softness) because she doesn't want anyone to know but him (and even maybe not then), "I'm scared," Pierce whimpers, holding onto her and never letting go. His eyes are big and tearing up and pleading, but she knows that he isn't a coward at all, he's brave, and so is she. They've always been brave. She says to him, "Don't be scared, I'll be with you," her fiancée replies (still smiling), and turns back to the priest.

He stands before her and he stands before her. A line separates him from him even though he is one and the same. He smiles and he smiles and they smile and he smiles. Two hands are held out to her, but she can only take one. But she doesn't know. Which Joker is this? Or are they one and the same? Is this Joker or her fiancée? Or are they one and the same? She hears two faint voices in the back of her mind.

_"-as your lawfully wedded husband?"_

_"-to be with me?"_

He smiles, he smiles, she smiles, they smiles. They all smile. She takes his hand, and steps over the line.

"I do."


End file.
